Georgie Lee - A Too Convenient Marriage

‘What do you know of trade, Miss Lambert?’ She didn’t look like one to sit behind a counter all day or wander through a cellar in search of a bottle.

‘My mother’s family owned a wine shop in Oxfordshire. I assure you, I didn’t spend my girlhood learning to draw on plates, but to manage customers, inventory and accounts at my mother’s side. She was an excellent negotiator. It’s how she managed to extract Lord Rockland’s promise to support me, even after she passed.’ She swallowed hard. Justin pitied her and wanted to reach out and take her in his arms to soothe her. His grief for his own mother was as raw as hers, but he didn’t move. ‘I can garner for you the same type of deal.’

‘Can you now?’ She was certainly more experienced in the wine business than he’d imagined. He wondered what other surprising traits and talents she possessed.

She strolled over to him, allure and innocence wrapped up in the slow swing of her hips. ‘Judging from your willingness to start your own business, you’re a man not averse to taking risks. A betting man as some might say.’

‘I’ve been known to wager from time to time.’ Justin remained still, as intrigued by her offer as he was tempted by her full lips and what they would feel like beneath his.

‘Then let me offer you one now. I’ll prove to you today I can be an asset to both you and your potential venture. If you’re suitably impressed, you’ll agree to my father’s offer.’

‘And if I’m not?’ He was ashamed to admit it, but she was already halfway to impressing him up the church aisle. However, he wasn’t ready to tie himself to this strange woman, not yet.

‘Then you’re free to go. I’ll leave the decision up to you.’

* * *

Susanna waited for the tall gentleman with the brown hair to answer, ignoring how her chest caught every time his amber eyes caressed the length of her body. Lord Howsham’s hurried, fumbling touch hadn’t made her insides melt as they were doing now with Mr Connor standing mere feet away. He smelled of leather, sawdust and musk, a more masculine scent than the lemongrass preferred by the society fops. It wrapped around her, drawing her to him until she almost forgot it was she who was here to win him over. She was close, her victory revealing itself in the hold of his eyes on hers and the twitch of his jaw above his cravat as he struggled between detached uninterest and desire. For all his rejection of the proposal, he wanted her as much as Lord Howsham had, only this man possessed the self-control to deny himself. She wished Lord Howsham had done the same and not pressed her into an intimacy she hadn’t truly wanted. However, if he’d shown some restraint, she wouldn’t be in this position, with her freedom only a conversation away. ‘What do you say, Mr Connor? Are you willing to accept my challenge?’

He settled his muscled thighs covered by buckskin breeches against the edge of a small table and crossed his arms over his wide chest, his ease of manner both annoying and rousing. He reminded her of a tiger she’d once seen at the Tower lounging in the sun, relaxed but laced with an edge of danger one could almost touch. ‘How do you know I won’t simply say I will and then walk away?’

‘Because you’re the kind of man who keeps his word once it’s given.’

He tilted his head in silent agreement. ‘Are you the kind of lady who keeps hers?’

‘I am.’ She raised her chin, determined, in spite of the actions which had landed her in this muddle, to demonstrate her integrity. She might have made a drastic misstep with Lord Howsham, but she wasn’t a woman to cuckold a man or break her vow once it was given. ‘I promise you, when I change your mind, you won’t regret it.’

He tossed a cocky smile at her which made her toes curl in her half-boots. ‘No, I don’t believe I will.’

She held out her hand to him. ‘Then we have a deal?’

He eyed her fingers with the same amusement he’d demonstrated during their entire discussion. Embarrassment eroded her confidence as her hand hung in the air waiting for him to take it. For all his glib lightheartedness, she sensed the serious streak lying just beneath the humour. He was considering her offer and whether or not she was worth the risk. He wouldn’t be the only one taking a chance with this challenge. She would be, too, but it was worth it if it meant ending her time with the Rocklands and escaping the taint of being a mistake and an unwanted intrusion.

At last he slid his hand in hers, his hold hot and hard. Her heart began to race and she took a deep breath to steady herself, willing her body not to tremble. If he experienced any measure of the heat sliding through her at the joining of their skin, he didn’t reveal it, his eyes crinkling at the corners with an enticing smile. How the woman who’d leapt from his carriage last night could have walked away from such an alluring man Susanna didn’t know, but she was thankful she had.

‘We do.’ He smiled with a wickedness to nearly make her faint. ‘Now do your best.’

Reluctantly, she let go of his hand and strode to the double doors, struggling to make each step sure and to not peek back at him. It felt too much like something Edwina would do in the presence of the Earl of Rapping, gazing longingly at him from across the theatre, making a fool of herself as she all but drooled over a man who barely acknowledged her existence. The same couldn’t be said for Mr Connor. Without turning she knew he watched her and it gave an even greater purpose to her goal. If she succeeded, there’d be no need for all this girlish mooning about. She’d have the rest of her life to stare at his sharp cheeks and strong nose. It wasn’t an unpleasant thought.

She gripped the brass handles hard, as much to steady herself against Mr Connor’s influence as to prepare to face her father, and opened the doors. Everything depended on the success of what she was about to do. ‘Father, please return, we have a few more things to discuss.’

‘You’ve both seen the sense in the proposal, then?’ Lord Rockland asked as he returned, appearing quite pleased with himself.

‘Not until you agree to raise the dowry to two thousand pounds.’

This startled her father out of his usual imperiousness. ‘One thousand pounds is a very generous offer.’

Clearly he hadn’t intended to engage in a negotiation, but to hand her over to Mr Connor with little trouble and no further thought. She wouldn’t allow him to get off so easily. He was the man who’d helped make her a bastard, now he’d make her a legitimate woman, but not without some pain.

‘One thousand, five hundred, and you’ll purchase the wine for Lady Rockland’s masque from Mr Connor and see to it we’re both invited so Mr Connor may make the connections necessary to ensure the growth of his trade.’

‘Lady Rockland will never allow such a thing,’ her father scoffed and she wasn’t sure which he dreaded most, his wife’s wrath or the thought of connecting himself so publicly with his potential merchant son-in-law.

‘If you agree to this, in writing, I’ll marry Mr Connor and create no stir which might result in a scandal where Lord Howsham is concerned.’

Tense silence settled over the room as her father mulled through the points of her demands. She slid a glance at Mr Connor. If her negotiations couldn’t open his eyes to the benefit of having her as a wife and a partner in his business, nothing could. His admiration for what she’d done showed itself in the impressed half-smile he offered her. Freedom was within her grasp.

‘All right, I’ll do what you’ve asked.’ Lord Rockland looked to Mr Connor. ‘Are these terms amenable to you?’

She waited, hands tight at her sides for him to answer. It wasn’t so much the thought of freedom which captured her now but the sun from the window illuminating his hair and falling over the tan wool of the jacket covering the width of his shoulders. She shivered a little at the sight of him, tall, solid, a rock of a man next to her father, yet with a humour to soften his edges. She’d witnessed his strength last night when he’d flattened Edgar, but he wasn’t all unthinking, uncompassionate brawn. When her pain had welled up during their discussion, sympathy had whispered through his eyes. For reasons she couldn’t explain, she knew he understood her loneliness, not in the mocking way Lord Howsham had pretended to understand, but in the way of a man who had shared something of the same kind of experience. If they married, she would come to know both the serious man and the one smiling at her father now, the one she desperately hoped would accept the offer.